


Lionheart

by Musetotheworld



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Cat is a princess/queen, F/F, Kara is a squire/knight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musetotheworld/pseuds/Musetotheworld
Summary: When Crown Princess Cat sees Kara, a lowly squire from a small village, she's instantly captivated. What is it about this girl that catches her attention? Deciding to find out, she brings Kara back to the capital city where she eventually becomes a knight, pledging fealty to Cat who has become the Queen. But Kara has a secret, and Cat is no pushover herself.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85
Collections: Super Santa Femslash 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beneaththethunders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneaththethunders/gifts).



> Both prompts were amazing, so I've combined them a bit here. Hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

Cat swears she’s trying to avoid looking bored. She’s a Princess, a member of the Royal Family, Next in Line for the Throne, and all too aware of the duties and responsibilities that come with all those capital letters. She’s been raised to remember them at every moment.

But sometimes she can’t quite manage it.

At least this time, her mother isn’t here. While Cat has no doubt one of the servants riding across from her in the carriage will give a full report the moment they reach the castle, none of her mother’s spies are imaginative enough to explain precisely how bored she looks. At least none of the spies in  _ her  _ entourage. Cat sincerely hopes the kingdom has better spies outside their borders. If not, well, she’s already expecting to inherit a mess when she takes the throne.

“It’s not much further, Your Highness.”

Forcing a polite nod, Cat wishes the ride was a little smoother. She’s too used to the swaying rhythm for it to feel uncomfortable, but it makes doing anything to pass the time impossible. She can’t even read a book when the road is this rough. On the cobbled streets of the bigger cities, maybe. But not these rutted dirt roads. When she’s Queen, she’ll have to see how much a few improvements will cost. Perhaps she can offer a reduction in taxes to any town or village willing to lend men to handle the upkeep.

Another jolt, rougher than the others, nearly unseats Cat before she can brace herself. Biting back a curse that would absolutely be included in that report, she manages to keep the scathing remarks to herself. 

Damn that last storm, though, and damn these roads for being so poor they’re this bad after it. They should’ve been home last night, or at least by midday today. But with travel slowed this much, they still have hours to go, and it’s already past noon. They haven’t even passed a respectable town to stop for lunch, only a few small villages comprising a few cottages huddled together. Not places suited for hosting a Princess, or likely to have food befitting her station.

Not, mind you, that Cat would argue too much about some plain bread right about now, no matter how rough. Obviously, it wouldn’t kill you, or the kingdom’s farmers wouldn’t have the strength to till their fields. But even the mere suggestion would cause her servants to throw fits, and who knows what Katherine would say about it when she hears.

“Is there a town nearby, one that might have an inn of suitable stature to provide a meal?” Cat asks after another thirty minutes or so. She’d caught the servants exchanging glances at the way her stomach was rumbling, and she wants to shout at them. Yes, she’s the Princess, but she’s still human. A grumbling stomach might not be very decorous, but she hasn’t eaten in hours. What do they expect from her?

“I will ask the driver, Highness,” one says, turning in her seat to open the small window there.

The other half of the conversation is too quiet for Cat to make out, but the look of satisfaction on the servant’s face is all the answer Cat needs. She can’t be the only one in the entourage missing the noon meal. 

“He says there’s a good-sized town ahead, close enough to see as we top each rise. No more than ten minutes by his guess, and sure to have something suitable.”

Holding back a sigh of relief, Cat nods. “Then send two of the guards ahead to alert the inn and check for any dangers.” Not that danger is likely this close to the throne city, but appearances and all that. Mostly a formality or not, she doesn’t have a guard for nothing.

After that, all she can do is wait. The ten minutes seem longer now that the promise of food is in reach, but Cat knows she’ll have a meal in front of her soon. Waiting for that moment can’t be worse than sitting through a lecture from her mother.

She barely manages to wait for the footman to open the door for her, mindful that they’ve attracted an audience. Royal carriages don’t stop in every small town or village in the kingdom, not often anyway. If one of the Border Dukes didn’t require a greater authority to sit in on some negotiations with a neighboring duchy, one across that border, Cat wouldn’t be here at all. And if not for the storm, they wouldn’t be stopping.

Waving at some of the children gathered across the square, Cat feels a flash of warmth at the way they gasp in awe. She’s made their day, and she’s not so naive to think they won’t remember this moment for years. If they have friends not here today, she’s given them something to brag about. 

The inn staff is equally awed, and Cat tries not to be annoyed. She can understand why, but they’re adults. They shouldn’t be gaping just as much as the children did. It’s not as endearing from a fully grown woman placing soup in front of her as it is from a toddler.

But she’s used to pretending nothing bothers her, so Cat turns to her soup and puts it out of her mind. She can fake a smile, and her thanks, at least, are genuine. The food is rougher than her usual fare, but it’s hearty. Warming after a chilly day in the carriage, and the portions aren’t strictly controlled to avoid a glare from her mother. All in all, one of the better meals she’s had in years.

“Highness, will you wish to depart immediately?”

Thinking about it, Cat shakes her head. “No, I believe I’d like to stretch my legs a bit before we depart. We are already late, and the road has taken its toll on me. A nice walk around the square would be welcome.”

The servant disapproves; Cat can see that easily enough. It’s the last clue she needs to determine which of the ladies is her mother’s spy, and she carefully files the information away. It’s always easier to hide from one than it is from two.

But disapproval or not, Cat’s the Princess and Heir, and her word is law. At least, it is absent any contradicting instructions from her mother. Thankfully, Katherine is too short-sighted to imagine a situation such as this, or Cat knows she wouldn’t have that loophole to exploit.

The town is quaint, just far enough from the capitol to be a bit out of fashion. Not enough to be decades behind like the Border towns, but enough to be noticeable. There are signs of prosperity all around, and Cat takes careful note of them with a smile. Katherine might be short-sighted in many ways, but her kingdom is doing well despite that. It will give Cat a solid base upon which to improve.

There’s a crowd of children following as she crosses the square, and a careful gesture from Cat keeps the guards from bothering them. They’re only curious children, not a threat. Let them have their curiosity. The soldiers might not like it, but Cat knows they won’t argue. 

As they reach the edge of the square and the distant sound of sword on sword rings in the distance, they do insist she come away and back to the inn. Not that she can blame their overprotectiveness, but Cat doesn’t have to agree.

“Milady, if there is a fight about, even one not directed at you, we must ensure your safety,” the captain argues. He’s not quite brave enough to pull her away directly, but he doesn’t hesitate to block her way.

Cat sighs, knowing she can’t win this on. At least not directly. “Very well then, a compromise, Captain. Send two of your soldiers ahead to investigate and if need be to disperse the fight. If it’s nothing to be concerned about, I shall continue my stroll unimpeded.”

He doesn’t like it, but all of her mother’s soldiers have obedience drilled into them. At his command, two of her guards split off to investigate, hands on their weapons. It’s a bit much, but Cat’s used to it. Some things are just a part of her life, no matter how much she’d prefer otherwise.

It’s not long before one of the two is back to report, bowing to her before saluting the captain. “No danger, Highness, Captain. It’s a local knight sparring with their squire, nothing more.”

“I would like to watch,” Cat says before anyone else can respond. “I am not ready to restart our journey just yet, and this sounds more interesting than merely walking about the village.”

Phrased that way, there’s little for anyone to object. They’ve been on the road far too long at this point, and Cat knows they’re all likely grateful for the rest. And late as they are, a little more delay won’t hurt anything.

So with no objections, Cat leads the way down the road before her guards can catch up and take their protective formation. She’s always loved watching swordfights at the various festivals. With blunted swords and little risk of injury, it’s almost like a dance. One whose steps are utterly unfamiliar, but there’s an inherent sense of grace in every movement. At least there is when the fighters are skilled.

Cat hopes at least one of the fighters here is decent. She really doesn’t want to get back on the road so quickly, but if they’re terrible she won’t have reason to delay.

They walk up in the middle of a resumed bout, and Cat can see the moment the knight realizes they have an audience. He stumbles a little, losing his form as he visibly debates whether to break off the fight to bow.

His squire has no such hesitation, knowing the bout will finish with a strike and not before. You bow after the match completes, but you don’t deprive them of the opportunity if a noble wants to watch. So as the knight hesitates, the squire moves in for the finishing blow. It lands unopposed, striking true and sure to leave a bruise.

“Your Highness, my apologies. We are unused to such noble viewers here. I am Sir Isaac Gifford, protector knight of Midvale township.” His words are smooth, but Cat doesn’t think much of him as she sizes him up.

His clothing is threadbare, more than can be explained by the exercise. His practice sword is rusty, and his boots are scuffed. His squire isn’t much better off, though that’s to be expected this far from the capital. There are few noble squires out here; most are strong young men and women who seize their chance to escape tedious jobs in the scattered villages. They might never progress past squire outside a time of war, but at least they aren’t stuck weaving for days on end.

This squire is clearly no different, with no badge or insignia anywhere to be seen. And yet Cat wonders if she’s not from some long-forgotten house, so gracefully does she move. There’s an air to her, a confidence that can’t be explained. Even with the way she’s trying to hide with a ducked head, Cat can sense...something.

“No apology is necessary, sir knight. We have interrupted your practice, after all. Would you be willing to honor us with a demonstration?”

It’s a request, but Cat already knows the answer. No knight would refuse the request, not from the Princess. Though she has to admit she’s more interested in watching the squire than the knight. Though dressed shabbily and unimpressive to look at, he has the same demeanor as too many knights in her mother’s court. Underneath his nerves, there’s a sense his respect is only a mask. A performance he’s giving rather than something he actually feels.

Utterly unremarkable, just another pretender in a kingdom full of them. Unless he’s more skilled than the small showing so far, he’s not worth noticing in a crowd.

But the young woman, there’s something there. Something all the more remarkable for hiding in this backwater town. That’s the real show of the day.

“Of course, Highness.” With a nod and a smile, he turns back to the squire. “Remember, Kara, keep your guard up. Dropping your shoulders allows your opponent to get in a hit while you are underdefended.”

It takes a great deal of restraint for Cat to keep from rolling her eyes, but she manages. She’s no expert by any means, but she’s watched enough tournament bouts to know this Kara had done nothing of the sort. He’s just making himself look better by offering the instruction, hoping to distract from the strike she’d scored on him.

Cat’s guess is quickly proven as the squire outmatches her teacher from the beginning of the bout, moving gracefully from stance to stance, never at risk of his blade connecting. There’s a great deal of grace to Kara’s every move, though Cat can tell her form is rough. She’d clearly learned all he could teach her, then practiced herself to move beyond that limit. Admirable, but ultimately it will do more harm than good. There’s no one to correct bad habits learned that way, not when your teacher isn’t skilled enough to realize they’re bad habits.

Mindful of their audience, neither combatant moves to end the fight quickly, giving an exhibition match rather than an actual bout. Still, the skill levels are so uneven it doesn’t take long for Kara to land a winning blow almost by accident.

Bored by the subpar showing from the knight, Cat isn’t sorry when the fight ends. She’s had an idea, and the sooner she can put the plan into action, the better. “Sir Gifford, a wonderful showing. You are clearly a good and noble protector for this town, and the Crown thanks you for your service.” He’s puffing up at the praise, exactly as Cat knew he would. The empty words and formal gestures come easily, drawing him in. “I would offer you a boon as thanks, a sum of 5 gold pieces as thanks for your willingness to oblige my curiosity.”

It’s a paltry sum to her, but from the state of his clothing, Cat can tell it represents a serious jump in his financial standing. Well worth it, if the result is a knight in a good mood. While not strictly necessary, it will make the next part of her plan much smoother.

“Highness, you honor me,” he says with a deep bow, not quite quick enough to hide the flash of greed across his face. He’ll have drunk it all by the end of the week if Cat has to guess. 

“I would ask one more favor of you, sir knight,” Cat says as he straightens from his bow. “As Princess and Heir, I am always on the lookout for promising young squires to fill my court. The knights of this land are pledged in service to my mother, the Queen, as you know. But while they are squires, they are members of my court as well. I realize that duty holds you here in this township, but would you release your squire into the care of my entourage? I have not seen a squire so well-trained; to miss the opportunity is unthinkable.”

“My lady, I am afraid-”

He’s going to argue, Cat can tell. Foolish man, thinking it’s a request. She’d spoken nothing less than the truth. Her mother cares nothing for the land’s squires, but Cat knows the kingdom’s future protectors lie within their ranks. So once she’d turned 18, she’d made the request. Asking is merely a formality, as it isn’t particularly politic to ride around reassigning squires from loyal knights. Far too disruptive.

But in special circumstances…

“I realize it sounded like a request, Sir Isaac, but rest assured that my mind is made up. Your squire has a great deal of skill, and as Princess, I wish to have that skill in my court. So I ask again, will you release your squire into the care of my entourage?”

At the subtle steel in her voice, the guards surrounding Cat go on alert. They have strict orders to serve the Royal Family, and Cat has made her position clear. Allowing an argument from one minor knight would be allowing insult to the Crown.

For all his posturing, the man knows a challenge when he sees it. Going pale, he struggles to speak for a moment before nodding. “Of course, Highness. I merely meant to say I am afraid I cannot outfit her as would befit a direct member of your court.”

It’s a lie, and if Cat wanted to push it she could have the man stripped of his title in a moment. He might be pledged to her mother, but Cat knows Katherine’s views well. A challenge to the Heir is a challenge to the Queen, and appearances must be kept up.

But she has what she wants, so that will be enough for her. “It is no trouble, Sir Isaac. I am making the request; I will cover the expenses.”

There’s nothing more to say, so he bows once more before waving Kara forward.

“I thank you for this honor,” Kara says as she approaches, dipping into an awkward curtsey. Cat will have to fix that. No one who fights with that much grace should be so awkward in a formal setting. And as a squire and eventually a knight, Kara is entitled to opt for the simpler bow. 

They’ll also have to work on her confidence; with the way Kara’s voice wavers no one will ever take her seriously. Fine for a backwater knight in charge of looking after a town, but wholly unsuited for the plans spiraling through Cat’s mind.

“No thanks are necessary,” Cat says before she can think. “I am sure you will prove yourself worthy of the honor in due time.”

Not her smoothest cover, but it’ll do. There’s no way this woefully undereducated squire from a town mostly ignored by the capital will know enough to spot the slip in the first place. Let alone know how to capitalize on it.

Still, better to create some distance now. To be safe.

“We shall set out shortly, once you’ve had time to wash away the sweat and grime. I’m sure you have no horse or skill with riding, so you’ll be in the carriage with me. Make sure you at least manage presentable before we go.”

With that, she turns away to head back to town. One of the guards or servants will take charge of the girl, giving Cat time to plot the next few hours. She has grand ideas for the future, vague thoughts of what Kara can do in the proper setting, but those won’t do any good if she can’t manage the rest of today.

There’s the presentation before the Queen, though Cat thinks she can put that off long enough to get Kara into something more presentable. If she shows up in some worn, threadbare outfit three decades out of date, Katherine will send her back to the country without hesitation. And then where will Cat be?

She’ll also need a place to stay and a knight to serve. There are classes to take, history, language, decorum, a dozen more. If she can find a place with the proper people, etiquette might take care of itself before a class is needed. There’ll be enough for Kara to handle without throwing that at her as well.

Well, with the level of dirt and sweat covering Kara’s limbs after that fight, Cat has plenty of time to think of at least a few solutions. After that, she’ll have to multitask. Because there’s no way Cat’s wasting an entire trip without learning everything she can about this squire.

***

By the time they reach the capital, Cat knows far more about Kara’s story than the girl probably realizes. She’s very clearly a child of a small town, not used to high-level political maneuvering or guarding her words. For someone like Cat, who grew up learning to speak with a dozen layers to every statement, she’s an open book.

She was orphaned at a young age, though Cat isn’t sure the details there. It seemed rude to pry. And while normally she might push forward anyway, there was a depth of grief in Kara’s eyes that warned Cat away. No need to revisit the past quite that much, not now. Maybe not every.

The story of how Kara was apprenticed is more comfortable, and Cat picks up quite a few details there. Lazy knight, desperate teenager. He needed someone to clean and take care of his armor, and she needed a place to sleep and food to eat. Eventually, he started teaching her the basics of chivalry and the knight’s code, hoping he could send her out to deal with minor issues and avoid them himself.

If she hadn’t effectively trapped him in Midvale, Cat would definitely need to keep an eye on the man. Lazy he might be, but men like that can do far more damage than someone more motivated. They know all the loopholes and how to exploit them, all for their own gain. Better a motivated but stupid man than a lazy but clever one.

By now, Kara is 18 and roughly halfway through her training as a knight. Or at least halfway through the usual course of things, though Cat isn’t sure how long it will actually take her to achieve that rank. She’s a gifted fighter, to be sure. The equal of many young, newly knighted soldiers. But her potential was higher than those others, and Cat wants to see her reach it.

Not to mention the way she’s woefully unprepared for any other duties of knighthood. Her courtly graces are nonexistent, her knowledge of diplomacy and history barely any better. She can read and write, but that’s the only positive. And despite her skills, her access to any great tomes of learning or literacy was next to nothing. No classics, no scholarly scrolls, nothing. Just the occasional religious text in the temple.

As they roll through the second set of walls, the ones around the inner city, Cat pulls Kara’s attention away from the window. “I’ve sent word ahead to prepare a room with the pages for tonight, and tomorrow we’ll set about finding you a more permanent living situation. It won’t be luxurious, but it will be suitable for a squire.”

“I’ve slept in my share of haystacks; I’m sure anything you can provide will be more than enough, Highness.” The words are accompanied by a dip of Kara’s head, one Cat hasn’t been able to train out of her just yet. Proper respect for the crown is one thing, but this extreme bowing and scraping is too much.

Moving past the comparison, knowing Kara isn’t skilled enough to imply insult with it, Cat continues to explain what’s coming. “I’ll expect you to work hard, and the first thing I need you to learn is how you’re expected to act within the city walls, and double so when behind the castle walls. I can delay your presentation to the Queen for a few days, but no longer than that.”

That particular tidbit has Kara sitting bolt upright in the seat, staring at Cat with wide eyes. “The Queen, Highness? A presentation to the Queen?”

“It’s traditional. As a squire, particularly one brought here by the Princess, much will be expected of you. If knighted, you will join the ranks of the country’s nobles and swear fealty to the Queen. To that end, you will be presented as a squire, hopefully alongside a knight who accepts the responsibility of finishing your training.”

Kara looks panicked, but Cat had expected that. It’s why she waited until now to spring it on her. Less time for her to be anxious before she has to focus on settling in, and less time for the spy across from them to notice the anxiety.

Katherine will still hear about it, to be sure. But hopefully, as a footnote rather than the entirety of the report. And hopefully Kara won’t feature in the report much at all. Cat knows there’s plenty to talk about with the original trip as it is. Some backcountry squire should be nothing.

Unfortunately, she has too much experience with what Katherine doesn’t consider ‘nothing’ to believe that. Too many times, she’s been called before the Queen to explain some minor infraction, something Cat doesn’t even remember doing. That’s how she first figured out her mother’s habit of placing spies among her servants, in fact.

“Now, tomorrow morning will start with a page fetching you for some fittings. You’re to receive three normal outfits, ones to wear while taking lessons or in general outside of your physical training. Two sets of clothing fit for riding and swordwork. And one nicer outfit for occasions like your presentation. The cost of that set will be taken out of any monetary rewards you earn during your time here, or from your knighting bonus upon achieving that rank. You can, of course, pay back the money at any point before then.”

Cat’s hoping the bit about paying for the court clothing will silence the gossip. It’s not guaranteed, but she’d rather her mother think this is just a mild whim than anything more. Stressing that the most lavish expenditure is a loan rather than a gift might do just that. 

“I- I thank you, Highness. I can pay for all of the clothing, if you give me time to earn the funds necessary.”

It would be a nice touch, if Kara were able to read the subtle clues enough to make it. As it is, it’s just a sign of Kara’s character. And Cat is tempted to accept. That’s what Katherine would do. But it’s not how Cat wants to do things.

“As I told Knight Isaac, I am the one who summoned you to the capital to join my court,” Cat explains instead. “That puts a responsibility on my shoulders to ensure you are properly outfitted. To avoid disgracing myself, if nothing else. Therefore, the five sets of clothing for your everyday wear will be yours. I merely expect you to work hard and prove I have not made a mistake in bringing you here.”

As expected, Kara flushes at Cat’s words. She does that a lot, Cat’s noticed. They’ll definitely have to work on instilling some confidence. What kind of knight will she be if she can’t even look someone in the eye?

What isn’t expected is the way her spine stiffens at the challenge. Not much, not enough to be confrontational, but there. And Cat’s glad to see it. Whatever issues Kara has with confidence, she doesn’t have any problems rising to a challenge.

“I will not let you down, Highness. You have my word.”

“See to it, then,” Cat says with a wave of her hand, carefully calculated. She doesn’t want to be particularly dismissive to Kara, but she’s seen a sharp look on the face of the spy at a few of their exchanges.

Damn it all, she hates playing politics. Especially with her own servants. Can’t she just relax for a single trip, just once?

At least the ride is coming to an end. Cat can feel the pace slow and the feel of the road beneath the wheels even out. They’ve reached the palace’s main forecourt now, and the seemingly interminable trip is finally over.

Cat is the first out, as befits her status. Kara is next, a pointed glance from Cat as she exits all it takes to keep the servants in their seats. Technically, they still outrank Kara. An obviously lowborn squire from the middle of nowhere is not granted the same honors as a lowborn knight, including preferential treatment. But Kara is, at least for now, here as Cat’s guest. Once she’s settled in that will change, but for now, Cat will see her treated with respect.

Katherine isn’t there to greet them, not that Cat is surprised. Her mother rarely concerns herself with Cat’s comings and goings unless there’s something to criticize. With no advance warning of Kara’s presence, she wouldn’t know to show up for their arrival.

Small blessings.

“Good evening, Highness,” the head of the castle guard says with a bow. “Your mother sends her greetings and asks that you dine with her for breakfast tomorrow. Your suite is prepared for a quiet night after your long travels.”

“Excellent. And has the page master arrived as requested?”

An older man steps forward and gives a short bow before looking up at her. “Aye, Highness. How may I be of service?”

With a wave of her hand, Cat gestures Kara forward. “This is the guest you were notified of. You have prepared a room in the dormitories for the night, yes?”

“Of course, Highness. It isn’t suitable for a long stay, but we have outfitted it with everything a guest will need for the night.” Cat likes this man, she decides. He isn’t trying to sway her or put on airs, and he doesn’t flinch from telling Cat the room is subpar. And what’s more, she can tell it isn’t an intentional slight.

He seems annoyed, yes, but not at the extra work. No, this man strikes her as one who expects things to run smoothly. Not because he cannot fathom pitfalls and troubles appearing, but because he is so well-prepared that all but major emergencies are handled with ease—all except sudden guests without proper warning to prepare a place.

Still, for a single night even a storage room would suffice. Cat has no doubt he’ll have managed more than that, no matter how plain the linens or empty the walls. A bed is a bed, and a room is a room.

“Then I leave this squire in your hands. Someone will arrive in the morning to fetch her for fittings.”

With a nod and another bow, the man steps back, waiting for Kara’s dismissal as well.

“Thank you, Highness,” Kara says with another of those awkward curtsies.

Cat can hear a few titters from around her, but a single glare is enough to halt them. Kara might not be prepared for the palace, but that’s hardly her fault. And for now, the girl is under her protection as a guest. Laughing at her understandable ignorance is petty and unbecoming of people who should know better.

Sweeping off with little more than a slight incline of her head in acknowledgment, Cat heads for the comfort of her suite. She’ll beg a relatively simple dinner from the kitchens and have a bath, and that will be it for the night. Finally she’ll have her own bed again, and hopefully manage some sleep before the morning meeting with her mother.

***

“Catherine, dear, welcome home.”

The words are welcoming, but the tone is bored and dismissive. The usual, really. Cat’s long moved past any expectation of anything different. Katherine was a decent Queen, a capable politician, but a godawful mother. That’s just the way it was, and Cat isn’t going to get anywhere by grumbling about it.

“Thank you, mother. I’m grateful to be home. The roads this time of year are terrible in a carriage.”

That should do it, Cat thinks. Give her mother something reasonable but innocuous to complain about, and the meal will pass quickly. Anything that isn’t Cat’s behavior is usually safe, and the roads should be delightfully inane.

“Oh yes, I doubt I’ll stir much from the castle until the weather settles,” Katherine says after taking a dainty bite, and Cat breathes a sigh of relief. “But that aside, I did have another reason for asking you to breakfast.”

Damn, looks like the relief came too soon, Cat thinks as she nods and bites back a comment. Putting Katherine on the defensive never works. Usually, it backfires spectacularly.

Deciding to be cautious, Cat doesn’t say anything, instead waiting for her mother to continue. Always the smarter play when she doesn’t know what’s coming. Until she has some information to ground her, flailing about will only harm her standing later.

“I’d intended to bring this up soon anyway, but after this latest trip, well. It seemed prudent to move a bit faster.” Katherine is studying her carefully, and Cat holds herself still. It’d taken years to perfect this move, but now she can appear utterly relaxed while simultaneously holding extreme control over her limbs and face. She’ll give nothing away if she can help it. “Yes, prudent indeed. As you know, it is expected in this country for the reigning monarch to retire by the time they are seventy, in favor of their oldest child. While not law, the nobles and peasants alike view it as a breach of tradition to deviate from that standard.”

“I remember,” Cat says when her mother pauses. “But there are many years left of your rule before that far away date.”

Truth be told, there aren’t  _ that  _ many. Katherine was an old mother, older than many past Queens. That’s one reason Cat is an only child, with no other siblings to share the burden of the royal family. But it’s still far enough that Cat doesn’t know why her mother decided to bring it up at this breakfast meeting.

“Yes, but the Council has reminded me lately that while our country has an heir, we do not have a full line of my lineage ready to take the throne. And you are nearly 21 now, old enough to marry and provide that continuation.”

Cat freezes, mind whirling as she tries to wrap her thoughts around the last statement. She’d expected some urgings toward a marriage sooner or later, but not this. Not a blunt declaration that she’s old enough to have a child and ensure the royal line doesn’t end with her.

“I-, yes, mother, I suppose I am,” she eventually agrees. There’s not much else she can do, after all.

“Excellent. There is an offer for a betrothal, one presented to me years ago, in fact. I have not agreed in that time, mainly in an attempt to keep our options open. There was that border skirmish a few years ago, you remember?”

Cat vaguely remembers hearing something in her lessons, but she’d been maybe 10 at the time. Not yet aware of the kingdom and what existed beyond its borders. She was kept too sheltered for that. It wasn’t until she was nearly 16 that her mother allowed her to attend court functions, and she was 18 before she could sit in on Council meetings.

“Oh, no matter. That particular mess settled easily enough, and we didn’t need a betrothal to win battles for us. Now, though, there is a more pressing need.”

“Oh?” Cat can’t help asking. She rarely gets information directly from her mother, but it’s worth a shot.

Katherine, unfortunately, does not seem to agree. “To that end, I have decided to accept the betrothal offer from the Duke for his son.”

For long moments, Cat’s sure she misunderstood. Katherine accepted? Without input from her at all?

Sure, Cat knows that’s how some kingdoms work. Even within their kingdom, there is no shortage of arranged marriages where the couple in question is thrown at each other with no consideration for emotions or compatibility. She’s not naive enough to think otherwise.

But somehow, she’d always thought things would be different for her. She’s the Princess, the Heir, surely she should get some voice in her own life, right? She’ll wear the crown and rule the country within a decade or so. What good is that privilege and responsibility if there aren’t perks that come with it?

Hell, she doesn’t even know the man’s  _ name. _

“I believe I misheard you, mother,” Cat says, voice cold enough to freeze the water in her glass. “You accepted the betrothal on my behalf? If I was a child, I could see that, but I am an adult. I am your heir and as such-”

“As such what, Catherine?” her mother breaks in. “I am the Queen still, am I not? You are a subject of my kingdom, are you not? Are you already preparing for the moment I step down? You and your rose-colored dreams about how life works? Grand ideas about the country’s future, ideals wildly out of place in a royal are fine and dandy for some peasant child, but you are a princess. And as such, you have responsibilities.”

Taking a breath, knowing that a Katherine pushed beyond cutting, uncaring comments is a dangerous foe, Cat attempts damage control.

“Of course not, mother. I have no objections to marriage,” a lie, but the easiest one to tell right now. “I merely object to having no say in my spouse, given I will be counting on them as support on the day I eventually take up the crown.”

“The Duke’s son is a fine young man and well-suited to help you,” Katherine says, back to dismissive. “In fact, I daresay he has a better grasp of rule than you will. Much more sensible about things, to be sure.”

Reading between the lines, Cat seethes silently to herself. A puppet Queen, then. That’s all her mother expects from her. Well, it might be what Katherine wants, but it’s not what she’ll get. And the same goes for this marriage. Cat isn’t going to go quietly to the altar. She might not have much of a choice, not without risking her inheritance, but she isn’t out of options yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Kara’s eyes are starting to dry out from all the wide-eyed staring she’s been doing. Even the short walk from the courtyard to the page dormitory was entirely new. Midvale was the biggest city she’d ever seen, and that was a town. Hardly comparable to the capital city and palace.

Hell, Midvale only had two stone buildings. The palace looks like solid stone, though with wood on the floors and tapestries lining the walls to guard against drafts. That alone is a definite change, without adding in the decor.

Paintings and statues along the corridors, at least for a little ways before the man Kara’s following ducks into a servant’s corridor and things turn plain and unadorned. More comfortable, but still new.

“I’m Jeremiah,” the man leading her says once they’re out of the main halls. “As you heard earlier, I’m the page master. I keep the pages at their duties and studies throughout the day. While the Princess says you’re only spending a night with us, I must ask that you not disrupt them. It’s late enough that the youngest are in bed, but the older children are easily distracted.”

“Oh, I can do that. It was a long day, and I’m not used to riding in a carriage. If you’ll point me at a bucket or something to clean up, I’ll do that and crawl into bed.” Kara’d quickly picked up on how much cleaner everyone is here, and she doesn’t want to stand out. Yeah, she’d had one bath after training earlier, but that wouldn’t be enough in the castle.

“Even better, I’ll show you to the bathing room. There are tubs for you to wash up, and this late, there shouldn’t be competition for hot water.”

Kara stops in her tracks for a moment before starting up again. A hot bath? That was for nobles and the rich, not one poor, orphaned squire.

Jeremiah doesn’t seem to notice her pause, keeping up a brisk pace as he points out various things along their path. Which way to the library, where the courtyards are. Areas that are off-limits to everyone but those living in the castle.

Kara tries to keep up with the directions, but she’s lost before they’re halfway to their destination. Thankfully, he seems to notice. “You shouldn’t be in the palace often; there’s another building on the grounds the knights have claimed. But you’ll pick things up fast, I’m sure of it. Until then, just ask a page.”

Okay, she can do that. She’s a quick learner, at least when she isn’t completely overwhelmed. Learning her way around the palace shouldn’t be hard, right? Not when she learned every inch of the forest around Midvale. It’s just a different setting, that’s all.

“Ah, here we are. It’s plain, as I told the princess, but it’ll do for a night. You can put your things on the bed and I’ll show you to the bathing room.”

Opening the door for her, Jeremiah stands to the side as Kara gets her first glimpse of the room prepared for her.

Against one wall is a small bed, an actual bed with an actual mattress. From here, Kara can’t tell if it’s straw or something else, but it’s a better bed than she’s ever had in her life no matter which. Across from the bed is a small bookshelf, currently empty, and a writing desk with paper and writing supplies. The room itself is small compared to some she’s seen on the tour so far, but it’s huge compared to her house in Midvale.

Heck, the bed itself is the same size as her room had been. Between the mattress and the size, Kara hopes she doesn’t have problems sleeping in the thing. It’d be embarrassing if someone found her curled up on the floor come morning.

Jeremiah takes in the look on her face and chuckles, resting a comforting hand on Kara’s shoulder. “I remember that look. It takes some getting used to, but don’t you worry. Give it a month or two and you’ll fit right in.”

“I hope so,” Kara says fervently, moving forward to place her small packs on the bed. She’d been warned most of her belongings wouldn’t be fit for a setting like this, and left most behind. After all, the princess said she’d take charge of her outfitting and lodging. What use would Kara have for homespun tunics and hand-carved eating spoons? She’d brought a few things anyway, but they were mostly sentimental. Her mother’s scarf, her father’s belt pouch, for instance. Small enough that with a second change of clothes, she could carry the packs one-handed.

“Oh, you’ll see. It’ll all feel normal soon enough. Now then, I’ll show you the bathing room. It’s not far, so you should be able to make your way back here without a guide. After that, the evening is yours to do what you will.”

There isn’t much to do but follow, so Kara does just that. The few turns they make are easy enough to remember, but Kara takes careful note of any distinguishing features to help on her way back. The scuff mark on that corner, the chipped beam along that wall. All of it gets stored in her mind. She’d promised she’d live up to the princess’ expectations, and she will. Starting right this second.

The bathing room is another surprise, but Kara fights to keep her expression controlled. The sooner she stops acting like a country cousin, the sooner she’ll fit in. And she’s heard the horror stories, same as every village child. The big city people don’t think much of country folk. Kara doesn’t want to end up more of a target than she already will be as a newcomer.

Once she’s back in her room, door safely barred behind her, Kara finally relaxes.

Everything is changing so fast, she hasn’t had much chance to consider what everything  _ means. _ She’s in the capital city now, currently in a palace bedroom. Not a setting she’d ever considered. A future as a backcountry knight would have suited her just fine. Instead, here she is as a personal guest of a princess. In what could be considered the most dangerous place for her.

Concentrating for a moment, it takes only a few seconds of effort before there’s a small lick of flame dancing in her hand. It’s about all she can do these days, with her practice long waned, but still. She knows the punishment for having magic. Her own parents fell to the Queen’s soldiers, leaving Kara to hide and make her way to Midvale.

Since then, she’s carefully controlled everything about herself, pushing her focus into the physical to avoid the magical. Magic takes years of study, carefully teasing out the secrets of the mystical world. It rarely left time for anything else, not if you wanted to reach the full extent of your potential. By focusing on swordplay, Kara’d hoped she could push the magic down. Let it atrophy from lack of use.

She hates the thought of abandoning her birthright, but she cannot be like her parents. They’d thought they were safe enough hiding in the wilderness. Moving from town to town for supplies, never settling long in any one place. But that hadn’t been enough after all. The soldiers found them anyway.

Dousing the flame, Kara takes a deep breath. She’s made it this far; she can make it until she’s knighted. Her bursts of uncontrolled magic are few and far between and usually easily explained away. She’ll just have to be careful. There are more eyes watching, here.

But she can do this. She has to do this.

***

It’s in the middle of her second fitting the next day, this time for workout clothing, that Cat walks in. The princess looks upset, but Kara doesn’t say a word. It’s not her place, and honestly, she’s a bit surprised the princess bothered to come to this anyway. Fittings for one minor squire, even if there was all that talk about Kara joining her court, should be well beneath her. Kara’d fully expected a servant would take charge of her. At least until they found a knight willing to take her on.

“Highness,” the seamstress says with a bow, turning away from where Kara’s standing in loose linen. “We are nearly finished.”

Cat nods, looking distracted. “Is this the final fitting?”

“The second, Highness. The fitting for proper court clothing will take more time, so I saved it for last.”

Shaking her head, Cat steps closer. “You should have fit her for that first. Our squire here will need that outfit quickly.”

“Deepest apologies, I shall start on that now.” Kara’s struck by how anxious the woman looks, thinking she’s displeased the princess. Does Cat have such a fearsome reputation in the palace?

Thinking back to the carriage ride, Kara can’t see how. Sure, there’d been cutting comments aplenty. But they were usually delivered after a quick glance at the servants. As if Cat were performing for an audience. After years of hiding the truth about herself, Kara can spot a mask when she sees one.

“No. You’re already in the middle of this one; finish it first. Otherwise, this whole mess will take twice as long.”

Dipping into a curtsy Kara can’t help but envy, the seamstress nods. “Of course, Highness.”

“I suppose I shall need to put your presentation off another day,” Cat says as she takes in Kara standing there. “They’ll need the extra time for your outfit.”

“We can finish-”

“No. You will take your time,” Cat cuts across the protest from the seamstress. “I will take the extra day and ensure the squire is prepared for the ceremony. As my guest here, you will take the extra time and provide a set of clothing that does not give insult to me and that invitation. Is that understood?”

The anxiety on the seamstress’s face is back, but this time Kara catches a flash of something on Cat’s face as well. Something tired, as if this is a normal reaction, one she doesn’t care for. Is it Cat the seamstress is afraid of displeasing? Or is there someone else? 

The Queen, perhaps? Cat was definitely putting on an act for the servants on the ride here, and the servants would be in the Queen’s employ rather than Cat’s. They might serve Cat, but the Queen is in charge of the Royal Household. Kara knows at least that much from the scant lessons Sir Isaac provided.

After that declaration and a few quiet acknowledgments, the fitting continues in silence. Kara moves as directed, lifting her arms and turning at the slightest touch, and takes the time to study the princess.

She’s definitely upset, Kara decides. Perhaps more than merely upset, depending on how good she is at controlling her expressions. What could possibly have happened in one night to cause that? And why does Kara care so much when it’s unlikely she can do anything about it?

It’s not until Kara’s trying on the finer outfit that Cat breaks the silence. “What is this?”

Exchanging a glance with her assistant, the seamstress hesitates a moment before answering. “It is the latest fashion for a lady of the court, Highness.”

“It’s a dress. Did I say that Kara would be presented as a lady of the court, or as a squire of the kingdom?” 

“I- you said she would be presented to your court, and I assumed-”

“My court, yes, but as a squire. Not as a lady. Beyond not having the manners for that, it would be a waste of her talents as a fighter. And a fighter is how she will be presented.” Cat doesn’t sound angry, exactly, but she definitely doesn’t sound happy. And it’s enough to have everyone in the work area scrambling for a solution.

Looking around at the sudden bustles of activity, Cat sighs. “Is at least one of the daily outfits finished?”

Nodding furiously, grateful she can finally give some good news, the seamstress beckons to one of her workers in the corner. “Oh, yes, Highness. Child, bring those clothes here so the Princess can inspect them.”

Cat shakes her head, cutting the seamstress off. “There is no need. Kara, change out of that dress and into the outfit. They’ll need time to prepare a proper presentation outfit, and I’m not interested in standing around waiting on them.”

Nodding, Kara takes the clothing from the girl and slips behind one of the curtains, moving quickly to make sure all the laces are tied before she steps back out. And while she knows this isn’t the finest set of clothing she’ll get today, Kara can’t help being impressed. It’s so far beyond what anyone in Midvale owned, other than perhaps the Mayor and his wife. And she’s expected to wear it nearly every day.

“Better. Now then, let’s leave them to it.”

And with that, Cat sets off, not waiting to see if Kara is following. She’s clearly used to being obeyed, and Kara scrambles to catch up without seeming like she’s struggling. 

Thankfully, Cat doesn’t seem to notice, or if she does, she doesn’t comment. She just continues walking, paying no attention to Kara. Or to the two guards following at a discreet distance.

Finally, Kara decides to break the silence. She’s not sure of the proper protocol here, but she’s not used to such long periods with no one talking. It makes her nervous, and when she’s nervous, she rambles.

“Thank you again, Highness, for the clothing. I wasn’t expecting anything this nice. I mean, I knew it would be nice, but I didn’t realize they’d all be this nice.”

And there’s the rambling, Kara thinks with a wince when Cat cuts her off. They’ve stopped in the middle of a courtyard for the princess to stare at her, hand raised to keep the guards back. “While it’s refreshing to have someone be so open, the palace is not a kind place for those who cannot guard their tongues.”

Flushing at the rebuke, Kara nods. She’ll control that better, then.

“Good. While I do wish to talk, this is not the place for it. Too many ears, not all of them innocent. I’ve arranged for lunch to be prepared, then I shall introduce you to a possible knight mentor and a family that agreed to provide you with room and board for your time here. After that, you will return to the seamstress for the final fitting, and then your mentor will take charge of you. At that point, you will no longer be my guest here, understood?”

Nodding again, Kara pieces her way through the information Cat just gave her. First, there are levels of intrigue around the palace, levels Kara doesn’t understand and likely can’t even see. Second, Cat is willing to protect her, but only to an extent. Not at the cost of jeopardizing her own standing in whatever games are being played. And third, Kara’s protection will soon come to an end. At that point, it’ll be up to her to find the hidden currents and learn to swim.

“Yes, Highness,” Kara says after Cat looks like she’s waiting for an answer. But she says nothing else. She’d promised Cat she’d learn, and if this is her first lesson, then she’ll take it to heart.

Looking pleased, Cat continues on her way as Kara follows. One step behind and to the side, not presuming an equal standing. It’s the position Sir Isaac always made her take, so Kara thinks it’s probably appropriate here. Her old mentor always was touchy about presumed status and appearances. 

There are people around right up until Cat leads them to a small dining room, set up with a full buffet on the table. “To keep this introduction informal, I informed the servants we would serve ourselves for the meal. It will be my last act of welcome, and the last moment you are in my presence as my guest. Knight J’onn will fetch you once our meal is complete.”

Mind spinning at the thought a servant could actually serve her, Kara barely remembers to nod. This is all out of her comfort range, and she’ll take her lead from Cat wherever she can. It’s not until the guards shut the door, remaining in the hallway, that Cat relaxes.

It’s a faint change, but Kara spots it immediately. The tension in her shoulders lessens, just the slightest amount. And the look of bland interest on her face tightens into something pinched, betraying some worry.

After a moment to weigh her options, Kara decides to throw caution to the winds. “Highness, is there something bothering you? Something I could help with?”

Cat’s gaze flies to Kara instantly, pinning her in place with an almost ferocious look. It lasts only a few seconds, but Kara finds herself frozen for long moments after, waiting for Cat to call the guards to haul her off. What was she thinking, making such an offer to the princess? She’s nothing, only a lowborn country squire who can’t even curtsy properly. 

But then Cat seems to sag in place, sitting at the table and waving Kara to a chair. “Yes, to the first question. But a resounding no to the second. My troubles are at a level far beyond what you can help, and if I’m honest, far beyond what I can.”

Sitting now that she has permission, Kara thinks for a moment. Cat is troubled; that’s easy enough to spot. But she’s also defensive, and obviously not feeling very sure of her ability to handle whatever is going on. And she hadn’t ordered Kara thrown out for the first infraction, so maybe, just maybe, Kara can get away with a second.

“If I cannot help, perhaps I could at least listen? You’ve done so much for me, I can’t help wishing I could help you somehow in return.”

Cat’s looking at her again, but this time it’s somewhere below a glare and above a look. As if she’s debating something with herself. Kara sits quietly, trying for patience, hoping she’ll be able to repay at least a little of her debt to the princess. And more than that, genuinely hoping she can ease whatever troubles her.

Seeming to decide, Cat lets out a sigh. “My mother presented me with some unwelcome news this morning at breakfast. And after hours of attempting to marshal support, I find that my reach here at court is more limited than I imagined. All avenues of protest are closed to me, save those that would likely see me disinherited before they achieved success.”

Well then. That’s not at all what Kara was expecting, though she has to admit she isn’t sure what she was expecting. What does she know about the life of a princess?

Still, there has to be something she can say that will help, right? Some offer she can make to ease Cat’s worries.

But even as she opens her mouth, the door opens. Cat’s eyes flash in anger for a moment as she turns to see who’s interrupting them, then she springs to her feet.

Recognizing the cue even if Kara’s not sure what’s going on, she follows suit and stands immediately, dipping into an awkward curtsy the second she sees the coronet on the woman’s brow. This is the Queen, then, and Kara suddenly feels horridly out of place.

Sure, her clothing is nicer than anything she’s worn before, but Kara knows it’s not the finery she’s meant to wear in the Queen’s presence. And her manners, well. She’s not ready for this at all. Not before she’d had those lessons Cat mentioned she’d get.

“Ah, Catherine. I was told I could find you here.”

“Yes, mother. I felt that an informal lunch with the latest squire in my court would be a fitting way to end her time as my guest here. Sir J’onn should arrive shortly to collect her and get her settled in.” The tension in Cat’s shoulders is back, though Kara only knows because she’d seen the change. To anyone else, Cat likely looks relaxed and confident. A masterful talent, and a trick only someone familiar with hiding would spot.

“Yes, your guest. A squire, or something like that. From, where was it, Marshdale?” Katherine is dismissive, and Kara instinctively falls into her ‘I am no threat’ posture. This is the most powerful woman in the kingdom, and therefore the most dangerous. Especially to someone with Kara’s secrets.

Kara can never forget that this woman ordered soldiers to kill her parents. And could just as easily order the same for her, whether or not Katherine found out about her magic.

Cat speaks up before Kara can decide whether she should open her mouth or not. “Midvale, mother.”

Katherine waves away the correction, giving Kara a careful once over. “Midvale, Mashdale, those backwater towns are all the same anyway. What’s surprising at all is you found someone fit to bring to the capital in the first place.”

Trying not to bristle at the insult, Kara keeps her own gaze lowered as she waits for some clue as to what she should do now. Does she introduce herself? Should she even speak in Katherine’s presence at all? Whatever is expected of her, Kara doesn’t have a clue.

“I watched one of squire Kara’s practice bouts with her mentor, Mother, and knew her potential was wasted in that backwater town. Have you not always taught me that the Crown deserves the best in life?”

Startled by Cat’s defense of her, Kara nearly jerks her head up in surprise. She only barely manages to contain the movement, though she thinks the slight jerk of her muscles was clear to both women. Gods, why is she so unprepared for this? What has she fallen into?

Katherine sniffs, looking unimpressed. “Well, you’ve listened to at least one of my lessons for you. It’s a pity you haven’t learned a few more. Very well, though. Come find me after this meal of yours, will you? The Duke and his son will arrive in the next few days, and we have details to finalize for your betrothal ceremony.”

With that, she leaves, though not without one last glance back at the two of them. And once the door shuts behind her, Cat all but collapses back into her chair.

“Highness?” Kara asks when several minutes have passed without so much as a twitch from Cat.

“Don’t call me that right now. Just don’t.”

Taking a risk, Kara sits down despite not having actual permission to sit in Cat’s presence. And taking an even bigger risk, she leans forward to rest a hand on Cat’s. “Cat, then. Are you okay?”

Head raising just enough to look at where Kara’s hand is covering her own, Cat doesn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know what my mother is thinking, but for both our sakes, this should be the last time we talk privately.”

Something in Kara wants to protest, but she can see the wisdom. After all, hasn’t she constantly felt out of place since she arrived here? Hasn’t she wondered why a princess would take such an interest in her? There’s no way she can expect more of Cat’s time.

So why does she feel so disappointed at the prospect?

“Of course, Hig- Cat.”

That gets a chuckle out of Cat, weak though it might be. “You’re a squire, Kara. You’ll be a knighted member of the nobility in a few short years. Own your power, or someone else will.”

The words should feel like a rebuke—a criticism of Kara’s attitudes and behavior since arriving here. But somehow, they ring with a truth and a lesson. 

The rest of the meal is stilted, conversation stifled by the nervous looks Cat keeps throwing towards the door. And combined with the earlier comment about all avenues of protest being closed to her, Kara wonders if the Queen was making sure this wasn’t another attempt to avoid the betrothal. Though she can’t imagine how it would appear that way.

After all, the Queen knew Cat was meeting with a squire. That much was clear from her reactions. There was no surprise, no hidden reaction to Kara’s presence. Condescension aplenty, that much was obvious. But no surprise. 

Why would the Queen view one outsider, a mere squire at that, as a potential threat? She doesn’t know anyone in the Capitol. Has no network of allies to call on. She doesn’t even have proper clothing yet, not without Cat’s help. There’s no way the Queen knows about her abilities with magic, nothing that marks Kara as out of the ordinary. If there was, she’d likely be in the dungeons awaiting her death right now. Not still sitting at a table with the Heir.

So what about her worries the Queen?

Kara doesn’t have an answer by the time the meal ends. There’s just too much she doesn’t know about the situation. The few pieces she’s seen don’t form a whole picture. Kara doesn’t even know enough to know what she doesn’t know. Or how much she  _ should  _ know so she can keep it from being her problem.

It’s both a relief and a disappointment when the promised knight knocks at the door soon after the last bit of their meal is eaten.

Relief, because this has to be the single most awkward meal Kara’s ever had.

And yet a disappointment, because something about the Princess calls to Kara. As if, in another situation, this meal might be the best in her life.

“Ah, Sir J’onn. We’ve been expecting you.”

Following Cat’s lead once more, Kara stands and offers a curtsy to the man at the door. She’s getting a little more comfortable with the motion, but she can still see enough of Cat’s face to know it’s not good enough. Just another thing for her to work on.

“Highness, I hope I didn’t leave you waiting?” J’onn’s voice is calming, and Kara finds herself liking him at once. He’s nothing like Isaac, which can only be a good thing. Isaac was a lazy hereditary knight who only cared about his title if it got him something. Whether money, favors, or notice, he didn’t care. As long as it was something.

He also doesn’t seem nervous around Cat, something Kara almost finds strange after how everyone else has acted. Then again, this is no mere castle servant. This is one of the kingdom’s nobility, and not the useless kind that sat in manor houses and schemed how to gain more power and prestige. His title likely grants him some protection, and his training confidence.

“As always, you have impeccable timing. We’ve just finished the meal, so squire Kara is all yours. Squire, this is Sir J’onn J’onzz, one of the castle’s dedicated knights. I have asked him to help you settle in and to consider taking you as his squire.”

Kara inclines her head in greeting, hoping it’s the right move after she’d botched the earlier curtsy. It doesn’t get the same barely concealed look of judgment from Cat, so she decides it’s probably acceptable. “Sir J’onn, I’m honored.” There’s more she should say, Kara knows it, but she can’t find words that seem proper enough for these surroundings. Hopefully that’s one of the things she’ll learn from J’onn.

“The seamstresses are expecting Kara back for a final fitting. Would you be so kind as to accompany her? I had intended to do so myself, but other obligations have arisen, and I must take my leave of you both.” Cat’s settled her mask back into place, and somehow Kara knows she’s going to go try to find another way out of her betrothal. Even if it’s a losing battle, the princess doesn’t seem like she gives up easily.

J’onn just nods, not looking put out by the request in the slightest. “Of course, Highness. It will give the two of us a chance to talk. Then I believe the Danvers offered to provide lodging?”

Cat nods, already heading for the door. “Yes, so if you could show her the way there and back. If you decide not to take her on, she’ll need to know where to meet the other knights who might.”

“Of course, Princess.” And with that Cat is gone, leaving Kara alone with J’onn. “Well then, I think we have our marching orders,” he says with a smile, gesturing after her. “First the seamstress, then your new lodgings.”

He quizzes her on the slow walk back to her fitting, going over everything she knows—history, literature, mathematics, what it means to be a knight. No topic is safe, and more than once Kara feels a flush of shame at all she doesn’t know.

Thankfully, she’s the only one who reacts to the repeated admissions. J’onn takes them in stride, merely moving to the next topic if Kara indicates she knows little or nothing about the current one. Always with an air of patience, and never losing that confident look. His steadiness helps with a lot of Kara’s nerves, and she finds herself hoping he will take her as his squire. Other than being assigned to the castle, he’s exactly the kind of knight she wants to be.

“I’m glad to see your studies haven’t been too neglected by your situation,” J’onn says as they finally reach the seamstress. “That will make it easier. If your fighting skills are at a similar level, you’ll have a lot of promise. We’ll test those after your fitting, before I show you to the Danvers’ place.”

Kara thinks back to all the time she spent sparring or working with her sword on her own. It was always easier to focus on her training’s physical aspects- and definitely easier to get Isaac to teach her. He had no patience for book learning; other than the bare minimum she’d need to be knighted and take over some of his responsibilities. She’d had to read on her own to learn anything from the books. And if Isaac caught her sitting still for too long, he’d always find something else for her to do.

But at the same time, Kara knows Isaac wasn’t a very good fighter. He got alone mostly because Midvale was far enough within the borders to avoid serious trouble. Only a few bandits or wild animals lived in the area near the town. Not much of a challenge for anyone with even a small amount of training. So while Kara’s had more practice with fighting, is it enough to impress J’onn?

There doesn’t seem to be much response to the observation, so Kara stays quiet. She’s been doing that a lot, not knowing what is or isn’t safe to say. Better to watch, and learn, and keep from making a terrible mistake without even realizing it.

The last fitting takes the longest, though J’onn returns halfway through and resumes questioning her, though this time on fighting styles and preferred forms. It’s easier than the other questions, and Kara’s grateful he got those out of the way first. She might not know where the power lies around here, but she knows admitting ignorance in front of any servant asks for trouble. Gossip moves quickly among the serving classes, faster than anywhere else. The last thing she needs is rumors about her intelligence spreading through the castle.

Kara’ll have enough to deal with being from the country. She doesn’t need ‘proof’ of her shortcomings to follow her everywhere. 

This fitting also takes the longest, but with J’onn’s distraction, Kara hardly notices. When she does, it’s mostly to take in the artistry of the outfit they’re working on. She’d known the daily clothing would be nothing close to the formal, but she hadn’t expected this much gap. This type of fabric is for princesses and nobles, not one minor squire.

Once they’ve finished the last measurement and tracing, Kara’s released from the seamstress’s care with instructions to return in two days for the rest of her clothing and boots. They’ve finished the rough workout clothing already, not needing to do more than adjust a few hems to keep them from dragging. And her current boots, while nothing fancy, are relatively new. New enough they didn’t attract any attention walking beside the princess, anyway. 

“That was a rather nice presentation suit,” J’onn says when they’ve walked far enough to be out of hearing. “Much nicer than my first.”

Flushing, Kara tries to explain. “The Princess said I was here as her guest, so I should look the part. I’ll be paying for it myself, though. Or at least, paying the Princess back. Either out of any money I earn as a squire or out of my knighting bonus, she said.”

“Ah,” is all he says in response, letting them walk in silence the rest of the way.

Their eventual destination is a practice ground tucked into the corner of the Palace grounds. There’s a row of trees shielding it from view, and the distance means the sound of clanging blades isn’t likely to disturb anyone. It’s a bit of a walk, but the distance means there are fewer people about, and Kara instantly feels more comfortable.

“There’s practice armor in the shed over there, and wooden blades to match. Find a set that feels decent, then come back out here. I’m going to fetch someone to try your blade against.”

J’onn isn’t going to fight her himself? Kara hadn’t expected that. But he’s the knight, so if he’s going to find someone, Kara will face them as requested.

The armor is simple, just some light padding with tough leather stitched over it, and Kara quickly finds a set that fits well enough. With the laces tight it doesn’t slip, and there’s enough give to allow free range of movement. The blades are similarly plain, and Kara finds one whose weight feels comfortable in her hand. It’s a little longer than she’s used to, but the balance is right and the weight is comfortable. She’ll just have to adjust for the slight difference.

As she finishes suiting up, J’onn returns with a young woman in tow. She appears roughly Kara’s age, though her build speaks to more stability in life than Kara’d experienced. It’s easy to spot if you know what to look for, and this young woman doesn’t look like she’s ever wanted for much.

But for all that, she doesn’t feel like some soft city girl. There are muscles beneath her tunic, and the armor she carries is well-worn. Clearly practice armor along the lines of what Kara’s currently wearing, but likely fitted for her.

“Good, you’re ready. This is Alex, my current squire. She’s also the Danvers’ daughter, so you’ll be staying with her.”

“Well met,” Kara says automatically, studying Alex a little more carefully. She’s fairly certain she’ll like this woman, but it’s hard to tell from just an introduction.

“Well met. J’onn says you’re hoping to become his second squire.” Alex’s tone is direct, no sly meaning hidden beneath her words, and Kara relaxes a little. Her instincts seem to be right.

Nodding, Kara looks back to the knight watching them. “I would, if he finds me suitable.” Not that there’s been much sign he doesn’t, but J’onn is too steady to give much away. Not masked, the way Kara or the princess were. But sure of himself, always. There’s nothing to give away because nothing startles him.

“One final test, and then we’ll see,” he says with a small smile, gesturing towards the practice ring. “Standard sword, no shield. We’ll go to three points.”

Grateful he’d explained the differences in sparring methods, Kara nods and hops the fence. Alex will need a second to get her armor on, so Kara paces out the dirt ring, paying attention to areas with loose dirt or rocks that could trip her up. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees J’onn nodding but doesn’t let it distract her.

Once Alex is ready, Kara leaves off her exploration. She’s familiarized herself as best she can, so it’ll have to be enough.

The second J’onn calls start, Alex leaps forward. She’s faster than Kara’d expected, and bringing her blade up to counter almost doesn’t happen. The next few blows come nearly as fast, and Kara focuses on blocking each one.

It’s clear Alex’s style is more aggressive than Kara’s, but that means she’ll wear out faster. Kara just has to keep her guard up, make sure she doesn’t let a blow through.

Just as she thinks that Alex’s blade slides under hers to tag her across the stomach, pulled enough Kara can feel it but won’t end up bruised. Aggressive or no, it’s clear she’s not cruel or a bully.

“Point to Alex. And Alex, I would remind you that this is an exhibition match. Not a true spar. I know what you can do, now let me see what Kara can do.”

Alex flushes a little but nods. “Yes, knight. And apologies, Kara. I’ve been working on ending fights quickly, before I’m winded. I’ll let you take the lead for this exchange.”

Well, that explains it, Kara thinks. She’s no stranger to focusing on a specific set of skills as she learns them. And an attack like that is hard to fend off, so hopefully she didn’t do too badly.

They start up again, and this time Kara strikes first. Without Alex in aggressive attack form, they’re more evenly matched, and this time it’s Kara that manages to land the point. It’s glancing, but true enough J’onn counts it.

Their third exchange, for the last point, goes on long enough Kara’s starting to tire. She’s used to lengthy training sessions, but rarely with another person. The added drain of footwork is getting to her, and it shows. Eventually, she forgets where she is and stumbles over one of the rocks she noticed earlier. The stumble allows Alex to connect again, giving her the win.

But Kara can’t be disappointed, not when she knows she fought well. Even if Alex wasn’t going all out, she was still clearly fighting to win, which means Kara held her off long enough to let exhaustion set in.

“Good, both of you. Alex, good work staying in form. And Kara, you surprise me. I expected your skills to be more basic. You’ve got a good grasp of the fundamentals, and I can see hints of a wider ability in your movements. Return here with Alex tomorrow, and we’ll go over courtly presentations.”

Nodding automatically, Kara can’t help opening her mouth without thinking. “Does this mean you accept me as your squire?”

Thankfully, J’onn seems more amused than put out by the blunt question. “Yes, Kara. I’ll let the Princess know of my decision tonight; you just focus on getting settled in. Your things should already have been sent ahead, so there’s no need to return to the castle.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kara says, managing to cut herself off this time.

“Congratulations, Kara,” Alex says as she returns her armor to the storage shed. “We can ask my mother to make something special for dinner tonight to celebrate.”

Kara doesn’t know how to explain anything is likely to be special, given what she can tell from Alex’s bearing. She’s used to half-raw or missed meals, not the sort of things crown servants are used to. But she won’t be rude enough to turn down the offer.

“Thank you,” she says instead, waving for Alex to take the lead.

The cool evening air is comforting as her sweat dries, and it’s easy to keep up a conversation with Alex. Already they’re becoming friends, and Kara hopes the rest of her stay here goes as smoothly as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's kind of implied here, but Cat won't actually get out of the wedding. Eventual plot reasons make it necessary. But since I'm not about that life, we also see exactly none of it. I think one more chapter of squire Kara settling in, then we'll time jump a bit to the main plot!


End file.
